


you are my home

by pendules



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-27
Updated: 2011-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 06:38:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendules/pseuds/pendules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Who AU. Based on the episode, <i>The Eleventh Hour</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are my home

Dean is ten years old and there's a crack in his bedroom wall.

The nightmares have started again. Any time he thinks that maybe they've finally gone, they come back, usually coinciding with Sammy getting more irritable or asking for his mummy, throwing tantrums. Dean tells him, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." He's not sure he believes it. Maybe he hasn't been here at all since the fire.

The fire. Smoke, thick and overpowering, stinging his eyes, blinding. He only remembers flashes of it now. Remembers his mother's screams, his father saying, "Take your brother outside as fast as you can," and then holding Sammy as close as he possibly could...and then the feel of damp grass under his feet. The house goes up so fast. _So fast..._ When he turns back, it's all but gone.

He doesn't talk for months after. He gets really protective of Sam. He refuses to leave his side at all for more than a year. Their aunt has lots of night shifts at the hospital, so they're all alone most of the time. When he finally starts sleeping in his own room, Sammy knocks on the door every night, and they end up curled up together until morning.

He's praying. His mum used to; his dad used to scoff and say if there was a God, he wouldn't allow any of the things he'd seen in war. Dean didn't understand then; he thinks he understands far too well now.

He remembers her saying, "Angels are watching over you," remembers the angel ornament that was over his crib, and then Sam's. He thinks about it melted and burnt and disfigured. Tries not to think about his parents the same way. (It doesn't work.)

He doesn't know if he believes in God. Maybe he's like his dad. He'd wanted to be like his dad more than anything. Maybe it doesn't matter now. Maybe he's allowed to be anyone he wants to be. He would've run away a long time ago if it weren't for Sam.

He prays for someone to come sort out the crack. He prays for silly things like that most of the time. Maybe it's easier to be answered when you don't ask for much.

He's about to turn out the light, lie in bed wide awake, wait for Sam's quiet call of "Dean?" through the darkness.

But then something crashes outside his window.

*

He's soaking wet when he climbs out of the box. The box that just crashed. The box that crashed on Dean's front lawn.

"Oh," he says when he spots him, eyebrows narrowing confusedly.

"Hello," he says, voice gravelly. He sounds like he's not used to using it yet for some strange reason.

"Hey, dude. If you're some kind of loony, you should get off my lawn, because I have a shotgun and I know how to use it."

The trench-coated stranger looks amused now.

"Really, _boy_?" He says it with an admirable level of condescension.

"Well, no, I don't have one. But I do know how to use a shotgun. My dad taught me."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"What's your name?" he asks, looking at him as if he's some kind of interesting but unexpected specimen under a microscope. It makes Dean kind of uncomfortable.

"Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Okay, Dean Winchester. I'm the Doctor. I'm also known as Castiel in some circles, so you can call me that. And I know you don't have any shotguns, but would you by chance have anything edible in your house?"

*

He's nibbling cautiously on a forkful of cherry pie when Dean asks, "So you're a doctor? What kind of doctor?"

"I don't know. What kind of doctor do you need?" he says, obviously humouring him.

"I don't need a doctor," he says defensively.

"Really?"

"Yeah, they made me go to one of those doctors for loonies, but I didn't tell him anything."

"A psychiatrist?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you talk to him?"

"Because I didn't trust him."

"Do you think you could trust someone else?"

"I don't know."

"How about you trust me for a few minutes and tell me something?"

"What?"

"Why don't you tell me about that big, scary crack in your wall?"

*

"It's a portal to another dimension," he says after examining it for all of two seconds.

"I knew it!"

He turns to Dean, cocking an eyebrow.

"My aunt thinks I'm crazy," he explains. "So what do we do about it?"

"You know how adults sometimes say it's all going to be okay and you think they're probably lying to make you feel better?"

"Yeah," Dean replies immediately. He's had this done to him countless times in the past three years.

" _It's all going to be okay._ "

*

They're back in the front yard.

"So, what are you doing?"

"I need to make a small trip."

"Trip?"

"Yes. I forgot to mention. This is my TARDIS. It's a time machine."

"What?"

"Yes, it travels in time and space."

"Are you just yanking my chain now?"

"So you believe in other dimensions but not time-travel?"

"I— I don't know what I believe." Cas looks at him strangely fondly and sadly at the same time.

"I'll be back. In five minutes."

He turns to climb into the overturned box again.

"Wait."

"Yes?"

"I— When you come back, will you take me with you?"

Cas seems to consider it for a second, and then nods. "Okay."

"And— and Sammy too?"

"Sammy... the little brother asleep in the room you keep subconsciously glancing towards. Yes, okay."

"Okay. See you in five minutes then, Cas."

"See you, Dean."

Dean doesn't see that little half-smile of his for twelve more years.

*

Dean's pointing a gun at him when he wakes up.

"Rise and shine, darling."

"What... what's going on? Where's Dean?"

Dean's eyes widen for a second. _It can't be_ , he thinks. But of course it is. That face has been seared into his brain for all time. His dishevelled hair, his blue eyes, his raggedy trench coat and tie askew exactly as it was twelve years before.

"I'm— I'm going to have to radio this in. Just stay where you are."

"I'm _handcuffed_ ," he protests. "What are you doing? Who are you?"

"I'm calling for backup. Because you were breaking and entering. And I'm a cop."

"What? No. I was just looking for Dean and Sam. Dean and Sam Winchester. Do you know them? They live here."

Dean turns back to him, says in the most ominous voice, "Dean and Sam Winchester haven't lived here for a very long time."

"What are you talking about? They were just here— I said I'd— Wait. It wasn't— _No_ ," he finishes suddenly in a whisper, staring at Dean's face.

"Dean?" he asks incredulously.

"Yeah," Dean replies, fierce, but he starts feeling choked up suddenly.

"I'm sorry," he says, almost pleadingly.

"Bit late for apologies. Twelve years too late."

Dean can see the hurt on his face but it's replaced quickly by urgency.

"Dean, listen to me carefully. We need to get out of this house right away."

*

Dean's dragging Cas out of the house by his arm when he asks, "Why do you have a gun? You're not really a cop, are you?"

"Are you kidding me?"

He stops and takes aim at Cas's chest, pulls the trigger and a smattering of pink paint appears on his coat.

"It's Sam's. Friggin' nerd."

"That hurt though."

"Serves you right. _Five minutes_ ," he scoffs.

*

It's after he's sent the aliens away and called them back and sent them away again, with ample help from Dean and Sam.

The completely restored TARDIS appears outside his window again.

"I said five minutes and I'm here," he says.

"Yeah. Okay. Couldn't do that the first time around?" Dean asks, only half-joking.

"I'm really sorry, Dean. I shouldn't have—"

"Left me?"

"No, I shouldn't have promised you that so lightly. You need to know some things about me. It's dangerous out there, like you've seen. And I've travelled with people before, and it didn't end well. It doesn't ever end well. You need to know that. You need to know—"

But Dean cuts him off.

"No, I think you need to know something about _me_. My life hasn't been easy. Not by a long shot. And I actually had to see multiple psychiatrists because of _you_ , you son of a bitch. So you're not leaving me here again. I don't— I don't really belong here. I've known that for a while."

"And where _do_ you belong, Dean Winchester?"

"I don't know. Maybe you can show me. All of space and time, right?"

"Okay. Challenge accepted."

They smile at each other for a second.

"Okay, now go get your brother because we both know you're not going anywhere without him."

"Okay."

Sam talks excitedly about time-travel and quantum physics for hours while buzzing around the TARDIS console but Dean and Cas just sit in the open doorway of the blue box, legs dangling over the side, looking at the universe and trading smiles every so often.

*

Dean eventually does find out where he belongs. But it's not in any one place or time. It's everywhere and every time. As long as he's with the people he loves.

And it does end too, eventually, like all things do. But it's a happy ending. For once in either of their lives.


End file.
